The man who has ransacked,
My heart with a whip of the eyelash,
Gone and hid from the scene of passion crime,
Leaving the heartless human hauntingly alone,
Searching for him in the empty fields and barns,
Really a bane, the rats have the nest and the young,
The love making sun exerts the great heat,
The saplings are browned, cowardly futile,
Nocturnal creatures are awake,
Prancing for the drops from the sweat,
People gather in every other square,
Those are named after every other dream,
Sugar canes are no more rigid, oozing out the sweet,
The birds have the floppy wings, yet to pick up the speed,
The land is ready to be abandoned, waiting for the new grooms,
They may fly through the wind holding the vacuum,
To suck the nectar this has no mitochondrial power house,
We are weak, overwhelmed, tired and the skeletons,
The mother earth’s dear children, but the reminders of corruption,
The persons, who have ransacked our hearts with a thumb print,
Are in the celebration mood to invite another phase of spring,
We are very weak, tired, hungry and thirsty for unpredictable future.
I love the amazing twist in the first six lines. your description of the tragedy excited me. I would love to write something like this. beautiful
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To work so hard then to have to sell for next to nothing must be heart breaking. A great poem.